


Turning Tide

by pastel_didactic



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Feral Akechi Goro, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Goro loses it y'all, Happens before Okumura's boss fight, I'm not sorry, Kinda, M/M, No one got shot I promise, featuring lots of snuggles!, only a little angst this time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2019-10-04
Packaged: 2020-11-23 07:13:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20888180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastel_didactic/pseuds/pastel_didactic
Summary: Goro had to get out of here. He needed to be somewhere else, where brutal calculus didn't matter, and people were simply people, not targets.He knew the best place to go.





	Turning Tide

**Author's Note:**

> Shout out to Prompt_Master and Goativa for being amazing and encouraging me to write this!
> 
> So this was supposed to be a short lil cute oneshot, but Pastel doesn't know when to stop. So it became sixteen pages worth of fluff and Goro telling off Shido. 
> 
> This almost became several chapters long.
> 
> I'm only somewhat sorry.

Akechi Goro honestly, unequivocally, truthfully could not stand this anymore. 

Shido simply would not shut up, and every foul plan that spilled from his mouth meant one more target after another piled on top of his already overflowing workload. It was bad enough that he was supposed to take out Okumura whenever Akira decided to take the Phantoms Thieves back into the palace. 

The Phantom Thieves… 

Goro honestly had no idea that treasures could even be stolen, and hearts changed. In interviews, he had to tell people he felt that the stealing of hearts forcibly changed other people's opinions and took away the concept of free will. But that was all just a cop out, wasn't it? They weren't really changing _ anything _ . They were just removing the distorted desire to do corrupt things, and forcing their targets to see what wrongs they had committed. While Goro still wasn't sure that _ every _ corrupt soul could be saved in such a way, he did acknowledge its effectiveness. 

Surely, though, if someone as dirty as Shido fell victim to the Phantom Thieves’s wiles, a change of heart wouldn't save him. 

It wouldn't be able to save Goro, either. Not that his heart could be stolen anyway. 

Shido had moved on to another topic regarding the usage of Okumura's financial contributions before he was "disposed of," when Goro silently excused himself from the room. Shido didn't even notice, simply rambling about the sum Okumura had donated, which had far too many zeros trailing behind it. 

Goro slipped down the hall, quickly and quietly, until he reached the stairs leading to the exit of the Diet building. He had to leave quickly, before Shido noticed he was gone. Anxiety gripped his chest as this perhaps ill-advised act of free will and personal freedom possessed him like a demon. He descended the stairs two by two and breezed out the front door without stopping to talk to the staff member that had called out to him. 

Goro had to get out of here. He needed to be somewhere else, where brutal calculus didn't matter, and people were simply people, not targets. 

He knew the best place to go. 

Reaching his bike, Goro unlatched it from its caddy and took off down the street. He was lucky that he wasn't going there from home- it would take at least an hour on his bike. From the Diet building, it would only take half an hour. He'd pay for it on his way home, as it was already dark out and he would have quite the ride ahead of him, but he didn't really care. He felt his phone vibrating in his pocket as he cycled towards his destination. Shido would have to wait, and just deal with the radio silence until Goro was ready to handle his ire. 

Akira was only warned of Goro's arrival by a brown, white, and red blur as it zipped by the brightly lit doorway of Leblanc. 

Goro, for all that Akira knew he loved to cycle, rarely ever cycled to the cafe. They were so close to the station it was just easier for him to get home if he took the train. Goro must have come here from somewhere else, somewhere closer, though Akira couldn't think of where that could be. Goro came in, face and neck glimmering with sweat. Akira had a glass of ice water ready for him, sitting it down on the counter before coming around and untying his apron. 

"Are you getting ready to close? I don't want to impose- I know it's late, I-" Akira shook his head as he neared the door, flipping the sign to "Closed," and finally locking the door. 

"Don't worry about it. Stay as long as you like." 

Rare was the moment Akira got Goro to stay in a room alone with him. Goro was always the last to leave on the days when he visited the cafe, but never took his offer to stay. It was almost like the detective both did and did not want to be in his presence. But while Goro was here, they've had deep discussions about philosophy, played chess, and just sat in a comfortable silence with Goro reading while Akira worked. Goro often said that he came to Leblanc when he needed a quiet place to escape, and that he felt comfortable here. Akira has often wondered exactly how true that was. 

Akira passed Goro a clean towel as he came back around the counter and set about balancing the register. They remained in silence for a time, before Goro finally spoke up for Akira to hear, "I was in a meeting and… realized the noise was too much for me." 

There was definitely more to the story than that. Goro never did anything by halves, and whatever the topic of this meeting was had to have been stressful enough for the detective to convince him to duck out, ostensibly without telling anyone else. Akira didn’t doubt that Goro was stressed out by something, or even just bothered by the topic. In his admittedly limited experience, he knew that all he had to do was remain present and available, and eventually Goro would open up to him. Even if whatever he decided to say was fake. 

So then, one could assume that Akira was a good measure of surprised that a lie was not what came out of Goro’s mouth. 

Goro looked down at his glass, then up at Akira. He looked… entirely _ lost _ . Akira wished he knew how to help him, but all he could offer the brunet was his patience. Goro seemed like he wanted to speak. Endless seconds ticked by into immeasurable minutes, and Goro probably started and stopped his next sentence at least twenty times. Eventually, like cracks in porcelain, Goro _ deflated _. He sank down against the back of his chair, his perfect posture thrown out into the night. 

“My father is a… dubiously successful politician. He forces me to attend meetings with his campaign staff, even though it’s entirely unnecessary for me to be there. He’ll go on for hours about underhanded ways to win votes and what to do with the donated funding that has nothing to do with the campaign, and I just… wish he’d shut the fuck up.” 

Before this exact moment, if anyone told Akira that Goro even knew a single curse word, he’d have laughed in their faces. Goro didn’t even apologize for being inappropriate. He just sat there, staring at his glass of water and slowly rotated the stool he was on from side to side. 

  
Well, now, this was incredibly fascinating. 

Akira tucked the deposit away in the lockbox under the register and leaned against the counter across from Goro. “You can always say no to the meetings, Akechi. Just don’t go-”  
  
Goro’s phone vibrated in his pocket. The brunet leaned his head back with a groan and dug his phone out of the offending pocket and tapped lightly at the screen. “Twenty six missed calls,” he sighed, and then seemed to come to a decision. 

Goro held down his power button, and turned off his phone. 

The action seemed to carry a great deal of weight, because in the next moment Goro handed Akira his phone, “Can you store this behind the counter or something? I’ll feel the need to keep checking it if it’s in my pocket.” Akira took Goro’s phone silently and stashed it in the same cubby as the lockbox. “Are you sure what you’re doing is safe?”  
  
“No. A lot of what I do isn’t safe, Kurusu-kun. I’ll adapt.” 

“That’s an unreliable line of thinking.” 

“You think so?”  
  
“Yeah. If you always force yourself to adapt, what are you going to do if you have to adapt to something you can’t handle?” Goro seemed to snap just a little more under whatever pressure he was currently smothered by and sighed at him. “I _ have to _ , Kurusu, I can’t just-”  
  
“Yes you can. There’s _ always _ a choice. You made that choice tonight, when you decided to run away from your meeting. You _ chose _ to leave, which is a silent ‘fuck you’ to your father, and you _ chose _ to come here.” 

Goro leaned forward, steepling his hands and resting his chin on them, “I guess you’re right. Hell if I know why.” 

Akira eyed Goro, feeling the tension that has always been present between them. Ever since he and Goro met at that news station, the two of them have constantly found themselves in each other’s orbit. He met Goro on the platform between school and Yongen, Goro was likely to be here every Thursday, and every once in a while they played chess. It would be a rather heinous lie indeed for Akira to say he wasn’t attracted to Goro. There was something about Goro, dark and lethal, smothered under his carefully crafted exterior. The real Goro, without any lies or compromises, without any fake smiles and saccharine-sweet chuckles. 

What Akira would _ give _ to see it. 

He felt like he was getting a little taste of it tonight, as Goro playfully looked up at him from his spot at the counter. His wine red eyes were full of equal parts promise and venom, and honestly? Akira was interested in seeing where this went. 

“Why don’t you stay? You live pretty far from here, don’t you? You usually take the train- and it’s getting late. Biking out here so late at night could be dangerous.” Akira knew the reasoning he gave was bullshit. Goro was capable of looking after himself, and they both knew it. However, the excuse was good enough, as Goro simply sighed and leaned back in his chair, “Why not? I will need a shower though, and I presume you don’t have one in here.” 

“I don’t. The bathhouse is just to the left, a little farther down the alley.” Goro nodded, stood up from his chair, and held Akira’s gaze in his own. When Goro walked out of that door, there was no chance he’d actually come back and stay like he said he would. He was putting the choice in Goro’s hands, however, as the brunet took the soap and clean clothes that Akira offered him from his own supply and walked out of the cafe. 

While Goro was gone, Akira finished draining the carafes of coffee, wipe down the counters, and went upstairs. He gathered all of the pillows and extra futons he could find and piled them up on the bed. If this was the only time Akira had to do this, he was going to do it properly, and maybe that would be enough to convince Goro to stay over again in the future. 

Goro was gone for nearly twenty minutes, and Akira was beginning to grow concerned. What if Akechi had changed his mind, and just left? He let Akira hold on to his phone, so he’d have to come back eventually. Maybe he just decided to leave, and would return at some other time for his phone? Akira leaned against the counter of Leblanc and sighed- if Goro wasn’t back soon, he’d have to lock the door again, and he didn’t want to lock Goro out if he was just taking a long time- 

Right as Akira’s mind began to descend from one horrible thought into the next, the bell above the door dinged, signalling the return of Goro, hair dripping still onto the hardwood floor of the cafe. Akira’s clothes were a little too snug on Goro, given that the brunet was slightly more broad and just a smidge taller. Goro didn’t seem to mind, though, and attempted to hand Akira back the towel and soap. Akira retrieved the towel from him, then glanced up at Goro’s hair. 

Reaching up with the towel, Akira began to dry the excess water out of Goro’s hair. The detective took in a soft breath and gasped, clearly not expecting Akira to do such a thing. Akira smiled and said, whisper soft against Goro’s cheek as he leaned to see better, “I don’t want you to get sick, Akechi.” 

By the time Akira was done, Goro’s cheeks were scarlet and Akira was feeling rather smug. Perhaps it was how close they were, or perhaps it was because Goro looked at him like he was coming to a realization about something. Either way, Akira resolved that this was going to happen, and grasped Goro by the wrist and pulled him carefully upstairs. “I have a sofa, but the angle would be the worst for watching movies and it’s _ not _ comfortable at all, and I only have one chair right now. So we’ll have to use the bed”  
  
“The… what?”  
  
“The bed. Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” Akira replied over his shoulder, adding a wink just to be that much more dramatic. The tension from earlier had dissipated in Goro’s absence, but now it seemed like a tension of a different kind filled the air. An awkward tension, where Goro stood in Akira’s room, suddenly deprived of that confident and loose personality. It was traded in exchange for a quiet, more awkward one that was dead set on taking up as little room as possible. It was then that Akira realized exactly what the problem was: 

Goro had never done this before. 

Akira had set up the bed to be very comfortable, almost like a nest. The mattress was sitting on top of three crates instead of a bed frame, but despite that it looked incredibly inviting. Deciding that he had to be the one to take initiative here, Akira carefully tugged the detective closer to the bed. “If you don’t want to stay on the bed, I can move the pillows and blankets to the floor? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” 

Goro was quiet for a moment before he nodded, “The bed is fine. This is just new to me.”

Honesty? Without any kind of sugar coating his statement? What were the odds? “That’s okay. Just let me know if you feel uncomfortable. I just thought it would be nice to sit down and watch some movies. Does that sound okay?” 

“You don’t have to be so careful with me, Kurusu.” It was like Goro had summoned any and all harshness left in him tonight just to say that sentence. After that, the well was expended, and Goro actually looked a little more exhausted than he had before he’d said it. Akira merely shrugged in reply, “Perhaps I’m not being careful. Maybe I’m trying to be considerate? Is that so bad?” 

Goro seemed to think on Akira’s words before shrugging, and turning to the stack of movies Akira had procured. Looking over the videos, he noticed a particular sticker on the spines of several of the films.  
  
“Do you rent movies often, Kurusu-kun?” 

Akira replied with a somewhat nervous laugh, “Those are all _ intensely _ late.” Goro rolled his eyes, a snort pushed from his nose, “Why am I not surprised?” Goro selected a campy horror film and presented it to Akira, who nodded in approval and slide the VHS into the player. 

They both settled on the bed, a reasonable distance and one whole pillow between them. 

They talked about each movie as they sat there, laughing at the bad acting and plot holes. With each passing minute, Goro seemed to be getting more comfortable with the idea of being this close to Akira. In fact, the brunet had scooted closer. After the horror movie ended, Goro swapped it out for a mystery film. When he came back to the bed, he sat himself on the pillow that had previously been between them. Now their elbows brushed every once in a while, and Akira was hyper-aware of it. Checking his phone, he noticed that it was well past midnight before Goro began to tilt. The brunet sagged slightly, and his head came to rest on Akira’s shoulder. Looking down at Goro, he noticed that the other boy was having a difficult time staying awake. 

“Do you want to go to sleep?” 

“Mmph,” Goro groaned, “I need to go home soon.” Goro sounded just as sleepy as he did reluctant, and Akira shook his head fondly. 

  
“You’re too tired to cycle home. Spend the night.” 

“I don’ want to impose,” Goro words began to elide together into one barely cohesive breath. It was so adorable, Akira could hardly stand it. Goro was melting like ice cream into his side, and had wrapped an arm around his own as if it would help him stay awake. Or to ostensibly cuddle with, Akira wasn’t sure. 

“You aren’t imposing, that’s why I offered. I _ want _ you to stay.” 

“Akira,” Goro breathed, and Akira’s heart stuttered to a stop in his chest, “I think you’re the first person who’s ever said that to me.” 

How could it be possible that no one else ever said they wanted Goro? Was he that devoid of friendship? Did he honestly have no one in his life that wanted to spend time with him even _ a little _ ? Sure, he had his fans, but they only liked him because he was popular. It was a fragile, tenuous thing. One wrong word on a public platform and they’d turn against him like a mob. But in his personal life? Was it really just Akira?  
  
Maybe it was. 

Maybe Akira was wanted to be that person for him. 

Akira was aware of the possibility that Goro was the Black Mask. He knew there was a high likelihood that Goro was responsible for the mental shutdowns, even just by proxy. Despite that, despite the moral ambiguity of these shutdowns (most which had resulted in death), Akira found himself smitten by the older boy next to him. If Goro told him that he was Black Mask, Akira couldn’t speak for the others, but he’d accept Goro anyway. There _ had _ to be more to the story- something had to have happened to Goro to wrap him up in that mess, if that came about to be true. The most Akira could do for him, at any rate, was offer him a safe place to go whenever the world seemed to be too much.

“I mean it, Goro,” Akira breathed softly, “I want you here. You’re safe here.” 

“I know I am,” Goro hummed, falling silent on his arm. They watched about 30 seconds more of the action film they’d settled on last before he mumbled, “This movie is horrible.” 

Akira laughed, full and cheerful, “Let’s go to bed, then.” 

Akira extracted himself from Goro, who huffed indignantly at his departure. He shut off the VHS and the TV, flicked off the lights, then came back to the side of the bed, “Do you want to take the bed?”  
  
Goro’s brow wrinkled and he grabbed Akira by the wrist, pulling him down onto the sheets, “‘M not going to deprive you of your bed, Akira, shut up and lay down.” 

So they were just going to settle on first names now. Given that they _ were _ currently sharing the same bed, that was fair. Akira relented and allowed himself to be pulled onto the mattress. Goro put his back to Akira and was out like a light within minutes. 

Akira, on the other hand, had a much more difficult time falling asleep. 

Their movie watching, plus whatever day he’d had, had worn down Goro until he’d passed out; whereas Akira was extremely aware that the detective was there, curled up on his side, fast asleep in his bed. Akira had never expected to be in this situation, for all that he was grateful that it was happening. 

Rolling on his side to watch Goro’s back rise and fall with his breaths, Akira wondered what kind of life Goro must have had to end up being so lonely. Akira wanted to give him so much, but he didn’t know how, or know if the gesture would even be welcomed by the detective. Maybe this wasn’t the night to be thinking about it, or maybe he’d never get the opportunity again. Either way, Akira allowed himself one single moment of indulgence. Before he closed his eyes to sleep, he wrapped an arm around Goro, securing him against Akira’s chest. 

This would have to do for now. 

The pre-dawn light filtered into the room just as Akira opened his eyes. He was on his back now, which was decidedly different than how he remembered falling asleep, and there was a weight on his chest that wasn’t there before. 

Looking down, Akira saw a mess of brunet hair on the right side of his chest, arm across his stomach. His own arm was thrown around Goro’s shoulders, and they were both very comfortably snuggled together on his bed. Akira’s heart flipped in his chest, and he tried his best not to let his internal shock wake up Goro. They were… actually snuggling! Cuddling! Whichever! This was _ happening _ , and Akira felt… _ happy _. Peaceful. The world was quiet- there were no interviews or Palaces, no Metaverse, no Phansite. Just the two of them on this tiny little island of a mattress in the attic of a coffee shop. 

How was this his life right now…? 

Akira could feel the precise moment Goro woke up, because his entire body froze in awareness. Then he just… unfroze. 

Then snuggled _ closer _. 

“I might as well,” he hummed his justifications, “I’m already right here.” 

Akira chuckled, “I don’t mind.” 

Their voices were hushed, like the moment would be ruined if they spoke any louder. It was too precious, too nebulous. This may never happen again. Akira held each second as if they were sacred, not wanting to let go of a single one.

“You should mind. I’m not the best person.” 

“Neither am I,” Akira breathed in reply, slowly reaching a hand up in case Goro wanted to stop him. He buried that hand into the messy nest of Goro’s bedhead, straightening out the scraggy length. Goro exhaled a shaky breath, relaxing even more in his hold. “That doesn’t mean that we don’t deserve affection, Goro.” 

Goro seemed to contemplate this before shaking his head, “I don’t think I deserve anything.” 

It was so quiet, Akira almost didn’t hear it. 

The brutal honesty felt like a punch to the gut. Goro wasn’t undeserving of anything, even if he _ was _ the Black Mask. He had the right to decency, just like everyone else. Right there, on his bed, at what had to be after 6am in the October dawn, Akira resolved to prove this to him. 

“I think you do.”

Goro looked up at him for the first time this morning, rolling slightly onto Akira’s body to obtain the angle he wanted. Goro was nearly hanging off the bed like this- his legs were too long. But only nearly, and Goro did seem comfortable like this. He watched Akira, carefully, looking for any deception. Without his glasses, Akira’s slate eyes seemed to be filled with tiny galaxies, even in the dim lighting, and Goro felt that he could stare into them forever. This close, Akira could see little wrinkles pressed into Goro’s cheek from the sheets, and all Akira could think was that even like this- even in the dark with messy bedhead, red lines pressed into his cheeks, wine red eyes looking bleary and like he could use another six years of sleep, Akechi Goro looked beautiful. 

It was at that point that Akira realized he was in love with the brunet in his arms. 

Goro seemed to reach some kind of decision, because he was opening his mouth to speak, when the alarm went off on Akira’s phone. True to Akira’s expectations, the loud noise shattered the moment, followed by Goro leaning entirely over Akira to pick his phone up off the shelf next to his bed where it was placed next to his glasses. Goro checked the time on Akira’s phone and hissed, “_ Fuck _,” and launched himself out of bed. 

Akira set his alarm habitually to go off every weekday at 7:00 am so he can open the cafe for Sojiro and get ready for school so he can get there by 8:30. This was a little different from Goro, however, who went to a different school that was farther away from Leblanc than Shujin. Goro grabbed his clothes and went downstairs and Akira was left to sigh heavily and thump his head into his pillow. They were _ just _ getting somewhere, too. 

Goro had busied himself by changing and washing his face in the small customer bathroom when Akira went downstairs. He rifled through Sojiro’s drawers and found some of the plastic containers Akira kept for days like this and turned on the stove to warm up the curry that had been left overnight along with the rice cooker. By the time Goro had left the bathroom after taming his hair, Akira had a warm bowl of curry and rice in a bag for him to take, along with a styrofoam cup full of coffee. “There’s a spoon inside,” Akira said, serving himself some curry and sliding Goro the bag, along with his phone and briefcase. 

“I couldn’t possibly-”  
  
“Please take it. I’d rest easier knowing you were eating something.” 

Goro didn’t seem to know what to do with that. He slid his phone into his pocket and grasped the bag, giving him a strange yet grateful look. Realization of the concept of time crossed Goro’s mind and jolted, “Akira- Kuru- Can I, I don’t mean to impose, but-”  
  
“Yeah, you can leave your bike.” 

Goro nodded gratefully, already halfway out of the cafe. Akira chuckled around a spoonful of curry. Yeah, he was utterly smitten. 

Twenty minutes later saw Akira ready to leave, Sojiro coming into the cafe with Morgana, looking more well rested now that he had the extra time in the morning as well. “What’s with the red bike outside,” he asked, tying his apron as Morgana hopped into Akira’s bag. “It’s a friend’s. He stayed the night and woke up late. He’ll be by after school to collect it.” 

Sojiro made a deep “Humph,” noise and shook his head, “What am I ever going to do with you?” 

“Uhm… Put up with me forever? Okay, bye!” Akira ducked out of the cafe before Sojiro could respond. He was still trying to get up the nerve to ask Sojiro to let him stay after his probation was complete. So far, he wasn’t sure exactly how successful that talk would be- if only because Akira can’t finish his sentence on the topic once he starts it. 

Akira was between trains to Shujin when Morgana popped his head out of his bag, “So, how’s Akechi?” 

“He’s fine, but I think something’s up in his personal life. His dad seems like a dick. Why?” 

“I tried coming home last night and saw his bike. The lights were off and the door was locked, so I just went back to Futaba.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry-” Akira began, but Morgana batted a paw at him, “Don’t worry about it. Just be careful with Akechi. We still don’t know how he fits into all this.” Akira nodded, aware that Goro’s position in this grand scheme was not exactly easily defined. Even so, Akira would defend everything he told Goro this morning with all he had. 

After school that day, he had a meeting with the team about future plans to infiltrate Okumura’s Palace for the final time. Haru was anxious to get started, but Akira and Makoto agreed that they weren’t quite ready. One more trip to Mementos should cover them, and they still had plenty of time before the deadline. The trip was scheduled for tomorrow, since Makoto had some student council business to do today, and they disbanded after only 30 minutes of deliberation. Sojiro asked him to watch the store for him while he got more ingredients and some cigarettes. This usually meant that Sojiro would be gone for about an hour, which was fine with Akira. He put on his apron and looked around the quiet, dead coffee shop. 

Goro’s bike was still parked outside. 

Goro’s day had been rather hectic, especially given the start he had this morning. Waking up in Akira’s arms had been a surprise, but he wouldn’t say it was awful. He’d say it was quite the opposite, really. He felt warm and cared for, which were two feelings Goro had long since believed he’d forgotten how to feel. His entire body tingled at the thought of how Akira’s arm was slung over his shoulder, and when he moved that hand into his hair. Intimacy wasn’t something Goro was at all familiar with, and somehow the transition to a first-name basis didn’t seem as daunting as it had in the past. They had been dancing around something for months, and being able to just finally call him _ Akira _ felt like both a relief and like an acknowledgement of that dance. 

On the train to school, Goro looked down at the bag of curry and cup of coffee in his hands. Akira was far too kind to him. Time and time again he tried to convince himself that Akira wasn’t worth his time. That he was beneath him- attic trash. While the attic _ was _ incredibly dusty, it was also cozy, somehow. It was a space Akira inhabited, and he had a hard time hating him for it when he saw the glow in the dark stars and various knick-knacks he’d obviously been given as gifts sat proudly on display. 

Akira was a good person. He didn’t deserve Goro’s disdain. Not that Goro could rightly hate him, anyway, especially after this morning. 

If Akira’s alarm hadn’t gone off, Goro would have kissed him, right after telling him he didn’t understand how Akira thought he was worth the time. He was a murderer- he’d taken several lives, if not dozens, over the last two years. Somehow, he felt that Akira somehow knew that. Or at least knew that he wasn’t what he’d presented himself to be to the media. He didn’t deserve… whatever this was becoming. 

The curry Akira had given him was still warm, so Goro decided to eat it on the train. He’d heard stories about how good the curry was at Leblanc, but something about this was… different. The curry was incredibly flavorful, rich and even aromatic. But the spice… Goro didn’t like spicy food. Not at all- which usually meant that he didn’t like curry. But Akira had somehow given him a bowl of curry that was just the right amount of spicy to not be inedible. 

The coffee he’d given him was also his favorite blend, exactly how he preferred it. 

Goro… didn’t deserve him. Or at least, that’s what he would have said, if Akira hadn’t discounted that with the thought that _ Akira believed he did _. 

If he told Akira the truth- what he is, what he’s done- would Akira ever forgive him? 

Did he even want to take that chance? 

Goro went through his day, mulling over options. When he’d turned his phone back on, he found some thirty missed calls from Shido and seven livid voicemails, along with a slew of texts. Each one said relatively the same thing: 

_ I own you; You’re nothing without me, how dare you, do you know what happens if you disobey me? _

Et cetera, and so on, for all of the messages Shido had left him. Looking at the abuses strung along on his phone, looking at the chain of events that was laid out before him, Goro decided to just say _ fuck it _. 

He was _ done _. 

After school, Goro went to see Shido. He went up the stairs, and down the plain and boring hallway, all the way down to Shido’s office. Each step Goro took was one of determination. Goro went to see him with the full intention of telling him to fuck off, but when he opened the door to Shido’s office, that was not what happened. 

Shido yelled at him as soon as he registered who came through his door, for a solid ten minutes. Goro could not fit in a single word, and it was several moments before Shido sat back down in his chair and sighed. 

“When the plans for Okumura’s Palace are complete, you are to construct a plan that leads to the arrest and subsequent death of the leader of the Phantom Thieves. Is that clear?” 

Goro’s mind blanked. What did he just say?  
  
“ _ Excuse me _? What the fuck do you expect me-” 

“I _ expect you _ , to listen to my orders, or I give you up to the police. I _ expect you _ to kill Okumura, I _ expect you _ to finish pressuring Nijima, take the Phantom Thieves to her Palace, bust them with a force of cops on _ my _ payroll, then I _ expect you _ to kill the leader of the Phantom Thieves. _ How hard is that to understand _!?” 

Shido wanted him to… kill Akira? Shido honestly thought that- Now that was _ funny _. 

Goro snorted and, like a fountain, laughter came pouring out of him. He couldn’t seem to stop, even once his laughter turned hysterical. Shido had just asked him, to his _ actual face _ , to destroy the one good thing he had made for himself in this life. On no uncertain terms, Shido just asked him to put a bullet in Akira. He _ just _ woke up in his arms, feeling like something out of a cheesy romance novel, and felt _ peace _ . He didn’t even have a nightmare! Then Shido has the _ balls _ to order him to rip that away from _ himself _? Shido stared at him while he laughed, looking at him like he was crazy. 

Perhaps he was.  
  
“You make me _ sick _ ,” Goro hissed, once his laughter had subsided, “You sit here in your little chair, pulling everyone strings while keeping your hands as clean as possible. They’re just as dirty as mine, Shido. You ask me to cause these mental shutdowns, and more of them have resulted in deaths that I am _ directly culpable for _ . You think I’m okay with that? At one point, I was, because I was settled in this path _ by you _ , when you neglected to tell me that a mental shutdown _ could _ result in a death. Now here we are, countless later, and you somehow think I sleep well at night as a result of your orders?” 

Once Goro started talking, he just couldn’t stop. Every single stressful thing he’d thought of for the last two years piled up on top of one another and just spewed forward in an impressive display of rage. “You wouldn’t care. Why would you? You sleep like a baby, ordering murders from your hitmen and arresting teens who stop you from assaulting women in the streets. _ Fuck you _ . You can act like an animal all you like. You can come after me with all your money, and all your cronies, and _ all _ your resources, and I don’t care. I can do one thing that no one else in your pocket knows how to do. Test me, Shido, go ahead and try. See what happens, and the next time you think you’re safe- all I have to do is flip a switch.” 

With that, Goro simply turned around and walked out, without waiting for a reply from the astounded Shido. 

Akira stared at the door, waiting for _ anyone _ to come through that door, really, but hoping that the next person to come through that door was Goro. His wish was granted when a very flustered, very _ angry _ Goro stomped into his cafe. The brunet was absolutely _ livid _, and he didn’t know why. 

Anger fit Goro like his own gloves fit his hands. His rage spilled into the cafe, and Akira was inclined to lock the door to offer them some kind of secured privacy. Something about Goro’s ire felt lethal and unrestrained. Almost feral in how it consumed his face and his motions. Sojiro came in after him, looking extraordinarily confused at the scene. The normally pleasant detective seemed to have smoke billowing from his ears as he turned to look at Sojiro, then silently grabbed Akira by the wrist and pulled him upstairs. 

“Whoa, Goro-”  
  
“_I_ _don’t fucking care_. I need to talk to you.” 

Goro tugged Akira up the stairs and over to the bed, where he pushed the raven down onto the mattress with an unceremonious thump. Akira landed on his left side with a huffed, “Oof.” Goro joined him on the bed directly after, burrowing himself in the space between Akira’s arms, facing his chest. 

“Sorry. Just. Give me a minute.” 

Akira watched as Goro snuggled as close as he could, burying his face against his chest. 

Was he… listening to his heartbeat? 

After a moment, Akira wrapped his arms around Goro and pulled him closer. He adjusted them so Akira was more comfortable, and before either of them knew it, Akira was on his back and Goro was lying entirely on top of him. Their legs tangled together as Goro turned his head and pressed his ear to Akira’s chest, eyes screwed shut as he listened to his heartbeat through his apron. 

Something was wrong, and Akira wanted to know what. But Goro was in such a mood that talking wasn’t going to help either of them. So Akira returned to what he was doing this morning and reached a hand up to run his fingers through Goro’s hair. Slowly, the tension in Goro’s body lifted, and he was back to melting against Akira’s solid presence. They laid there for what felt like hours, snuggled on his bed. 

A soft padding up the stairs alerted Akira to the presence of Morgana. Who, as soon as he crested the stairs and saw them, paused for a brief yet comical moment, and trotted back down the stairs. 

At least they would have their privacy.

“Akira.” 

The first words to come from either of them in what had to have been ten minutes, and it came from Goro. 

“Yeah?” 

“Is there… anything I could do… that would make you not… be so kind to me?” 

Well, that was an odd question, but it felt like the build up to the reveal he had been expecting. So Akira resolved to answer him honestly. Goro deserved honesty from at least one person in his life, and Akira was prepared to be that person. 

“No. Why?” 

“Even… if I’ve…” 

“Goro, I don’t care if you’re Black Mask.” It was a shot in the dark, but a shot that Akira was pretty confident was made dead-on, because Goro shot up and stared at him. “How the _ fuck _ did you figure it out?”  
  
Akira laughed, “Goro, you aren’t exactly the most subtle. Don’t think I don’t notice when you come in here late at night looking exhausted, and the next morning someone’s had a mental shutdown.” He reached up and brushed some hair out of Goro’s face, “You put up this wall for everyone else to see- perfect Detective Prince Akechi. If that’s something you want to talk to me about, that’s fine. I’m here for you. Just- you don’t have to keep up that facade around me, Goro.” 

Goro stared at him and rolled his eyes, “I should have fucking guessed,” and plopped back down onto Akira, who complained with another, “Oof.”  
  
“Sorry.”

  
“No you’re not.” 

They fell back into silence once again, with Akira still brushing his hand through Goro’s hair. Akira would wait as long as he needed to, as it seemed that patience would win out with the detective every time. Sure enough, Goro began to speak again, and this time, he drew up a hand to rest on Akira’s chest.  
  
“My father… is Masayoshi Shido.” 

“The one running for Prime Minister?”  
  
“Mmhm. He and his cohort give me names, and I enact the shutdowns. At first, it was… an accident. Shido didn’t tell me she would die. When she did, I was stuck. If I backed out, Shido would have gone to the media. But all of these targets, Akira- all of them deserved some kind of punishment. They were _ sick _ . One of them even ran a human trafficking ring. _ That Shido supported _ . What I have on him could sink his career for the rest of his life and land him in jail for eternity. But if I say a word, he’ll indict me for murder.”  
  
_ Fuck _. That wasn’t… good. At all. This Shido must definitely have a Palace, and this was time sensitive enough that after Okumura, that was where they should go next. Akira was already rearranging plans in his head to go after Okumura tomorrow and simply take it slow, and perhaps spend some time warming up with the shadows around the last Safe Room. 

“I had no idea hearts could be changed. I have no idea how you do it. They wanted me to kill Okumura next. Come in behind you after you’ve done whatever it is you do, and kill his shadow. Once the shadow is destroyed, their brain shuts down at a moment of my choosing. I can’t even explain where I got this power,” That… actually explains a great deal. Akira hugged Goro closer as he continued, “I told my father to fuck off today.”

“I’m proud of you.” 

“It’s dangerous. He has almost the entire Shibuya PD in his pocket-”  
  
“Then we’ll go to his Palace. If he’s half as bad as you say he is, he has one, and we can take it out together.” 

“You’d ask me to join you? Even after everything I _ just _ told you?”  
  
“Yes,” Akira replied, tugging Goro up his body to look him in the eye. Goro caged his arms around Akira’s head to balance himself, “It’s not my place to judge whether you’re guilty or innocent, Goro. But I know what I believe, and I believe that you deserve everything this world hasn’t given you. I believe that my trust isn’t something I ever want you to be without.” 

Goro measured the events of the day- the quiet morning with Akira, the curry and coffee breakfast, Shido’s ire, and all the little details that led him back here. Back in Akira’s bed, back in Akira’s arms. All the choices he’s made that somehow made Akira think he’d earned this spot, snuggled up to his body in a position that must look so much more intimate from the outside. Akira looked at him and found something worthwhile. That was still something Goro couldn’t wrap his head around, yet here they were. 

Here Akira was, willingly giving him that affection, despite everything he’d just said. 

“Do you know what my father told me to do today, after ripping me a new ass for shutting off my phone?” 

“What?” 

“He told me to kill you.” 

“Well,” Akira questioned, his Joker smirk spreading across his face, “Are you?” Goro was quiet for a moment before his own jagged smirk parted his lips. 

“Oh, shut the _ fuck up _ .” Goro pulled Akira up by the apron and kissed him like he should have done this morning. Akira’s lips were the most criminal thing about him. They were soft, and too warm under his own, and somehow that only made Goro crave them _ more _. Their kiss was slow and sensual, with Akira burying his hand into Goro’s hair and tugging lightly to encourage Goro to part his lips. He did so, and let Akira dip his tongue in to meet his own. 

Goro moaned softly, lost in the soft passion of his first kiss. Akira inhaled deeply and attempted to make Goro make whatever divine sound _ that _was again. It wasn’t difficult, and before long Goro was sighing in contentment once again with a few calculated swipes of Akira’s tongue. They pulled away for air and Akira admired Goro’s pink lips, proud that he’d made them so. Goro seemed dazed, pressing his forehead to Akira’s and stealing little, chaste kisses like he simply couldn’t get enough of Akira’s lips. 

Akira hummed and drew Goro’s face down for one more longer kiss before releasing the detective’s face. Goro huffed and finally opened his eyes to look at Akira. Those carmine eyes seemed to sparkle with a newfound mischief and some other deep, longing affection Akira was afraid to name. Goro smirked and pulled out his phone, which vibrated yet again to show a fifth missed call. Akira snorted, pulling Goro back down to lay soft kisses to his temple. “What do you say,” he asked, “Join us?” 

Goro looked down at him, then to his phone, and smirked. 

“I guess I should get a new phone number.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually the result of me writing two fics at once! I was going back and forth between this one and Polaris Chapter 16. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Do you like my work? I take commissions! Find me on Tumblr- I'd love to talk with you about writing a piece for you! I am Pastel-Didactic on Tumblr. 
> 
> Until next time! <3


End file.
